


Emotion (or lack thereof)

by interstellartreasure



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Dehumanization, Gen, he is only referenced by thk and then interrupts hornet at the end, hornet just wants thk to take care of n acknowledge themself okay, i love these siblings... they make me sad, if you're looking for tpk content this is not it.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellartreasure/pseuds/interstellartreasure
Summary: Hornet's upbeat tone faltered. "Mom gets tired of me starting all our conversations too, sometimes. Especially when I keep asking her stuff. But she still communicates with me. Please tell me why you don't."There were multiple reasons as to why it did not respond. These reasons became quite obvious if she paid attention to what others within the palace told her. The vessel cared not whether her blatant denial was born of ignorance or hope.---CW: Self-dehumanization from THK
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	Emotion (or lack thereof)

Even now, Hornet lingered around the Pure Vessel.

There was not even a semblance of sense to her actions. Their training had ended with Ogrim beckoned elsewhere by Isma's urgent request, and he left only after asking Hornet to return to her room and gather her possessions. Queen Herrah had clearly already called for the king to prepare her daughter's return to Deepnest now the week was finished.

With the child's usual eager nature, it must be a wonder to anyone else as to how she managed to remain so calm, choosing to quietly stay by the vessel’s side. Typically, she would immediately jump away at Ogrim's permission and collect her few items of importance in preparation to finally leave, as she so clearly desired. Just yesterday, was she announcing she must return ‘home’ to the king’s face—that the palace was not perfect and in fact, felt suffocating. Why did she now refuse this obvious chance to depart?

The vessel pushed the question aside. Speculation was damnable enough.

It only knew Hornet had taken a seat beside its legs, carelessly resting her training weapon on the ground beside her, and staring upward with an expectant look, waiting for some movement that would never come.

"Well, come on: sit with me." It was only through its king's upstanding orders to heed her that it followed. It mimicked her position, its legs folded and arms behind it to prop itself up, keeping its gaze on her for further direction. Hornet tilted her head. Quietly, "They aren't going to get mad at you for this, are they?"

It did not respond to the question, for to search through possibilities and settle on an answer required thought.

"Remember? You can shake and nod your head," Hornet gave physical indicators of what both actions meant. She shifted closer to it, hesitantly going on: "Until you learn sign language, it's the best we have, I think."

It watched her with empty eyes.

"Are you listening?" She paused. It could practically see her reassessing the situation in her mind. "Tell me if you're listening."

A nod.

"See? I guess I just forgot you were so picky."

…Picky.

"I could teach you some signs, if you want, in return for you're teaching me nail stuff," She offered brightly, seemingly oblivious to the vessel's clear lack of desire. Her upbeat tone faltered. "Mom gets tired of me starting all our conversations too, sometimes. Especially when I keep asking her stuff. But she still communicates with me. Please tell me why you don't."

There were multiple reasons as to why it did not respond. These reasons became quite obvious if she paid attention to what others within the palace told her. The vessel cared not whether her blatant denial was born of ignorance or hope.

"Fine, I guess. I know it's a more complicated question that needs more than any yes or no." Hornet paused, deflating as she turned away. "I wish the king would teach you. I don't understand why he doesn't.”

It was because it was but a glorified construct. Inevitably, she would arrive to this same conclusion—it was truth permeated among every being aware of its presence.

It was nothing. There was no need to waste time on training it to do anything more than wield its soul—strange enough were its lessons on nails, though this was excused by the story the king had crafted in that it was his knight, one he had created.

There was no lie in this, it knew, but it heavily relied on assumption. They both held aware he was only safe from his people’s retribution through others' assumptions of its creation being an extraordinary outlier among his previous void constructs.

Perhaps the king truly saw his word as the story in full. No spawn of him and his lover, but yet another tool to bend and perfect.

It was difficult to tell, at times, what his weary gaze meant.

However, it did not matter.

His vessel had a singular purpose. It would not fail him—he was not its father, he was its king above all, and it was foremost and solely his perfect, empty subject, for it was not crafted to be anything more.

Hornet hesitantly leaned closer, her brush on its hand shocking the vessel back to reality. “Nod if it’s okay to hug you.”

It nodded. There was no real reason to deny this simple request. The child would not bring harm to them. She pressed the side of her face against its arm, reaching around it as best she could with her small form. If it were a bug, it would return the gesture—scoop her up in its arms and press her to its chest as it had witnessed Herrah do, the few times she personally arrived to the palace.

But it was no bug. It was not even alive.

Its chest ached uncomfortably every time this child pretended otherwise.

“Ogrim doesn’t even use a _name_ for you. And he was so happy to hear mine, when I chose it,” There was an audible frown to her contemplation. “All they ever call you is ‘Hollow Knight’ and nothing more. I _know_ bugs in Hallownest use titles, if they _never_ find their name, but at least that’s from a job they choose. You don’t _choose_ to be hollow if you’re _actually_ hollow, it’s a label imp- imposed on you, then.”

Its void shifted. Her grip on it tightened.

“You can _try_ to be ‘hollow’ and try to pretend there’s nothing. But I don’t get how people can, especially when others clearly care about them.” Hornet’s gaze fell further down. “I mean, I know people deal with apathy, that they don’t feel much, or anything, and it’s not by their choice. They _can’t_ care. I feel that way too, sometimes, especially when Mom…”

Hornet trailed off. The vessel stared. There was an unfamiliar urge to follow an action it saw the king took years ago—run a claw along the side of her face. It had soothed her, back then, and was the vessel’s order not to care for her?

But it was not meant to express _anything_. It could not. It was simply not crafted for such a fragile attempt. It ignored whatever twisted within at its idleness as she struggled to recover on her own.

“I guess I mean to say, even apathetic people aren’t as ‘hollow’ as others like to think they are, if _that's_ why they're calling you that. They can still learn how to learn to express their thoughts, even if it’s not as emotional as others. Even if they never understand what it feels like themself, they still can learn to… help other people deal with it, and be considerate. It’s hard.” She huffed a half-laugh. “It’s _really_ hard. But they aren’t _empty_ even if they don’t care, they just have trouble connecting with it themselves. And that’s okay!”

She looked up again, beaming up at it as she chattered on in her newfound realization: ”It’s like accidentally cutting silk too early! It’s still silk and it still works if you need help on other projects, just not that specific one. And you wouldn’t call silk something else, just for that, would you?”

It took mere moments of its silence for her to return her gaze to the ground.

“...I don’t know. The word hollow just reminds me of corpses. Dead, unthinking, _nothing_.”

She clutched it tighter, moving in between its arm and its chest, making it appear as if it had an arm wrapped around her.

“But I _know_ you’re not dead. I know because you’re breathing, and you think, and you sometimes respond to me, when you can.”

It did not move.

“So I _know_ you aren’t h-” 

“Hornet,” Came the king’s call. “Ogrim told me you were in your room. Do you care to explain why you did not follow his direction?”

“Sorry,” She muttered awkwardly, slipping out of its grasp. She hoisted up her nail and stepped away from the vessel with but a glance. It moved to stand in the king's presence, at attention.

Hornet quickly put her training weapon away, finding her explanation. “I hurt my leg while we were practicing, but Ogrim was already busy so I felt bad telling him. I stayed here, and I wanted to ask the knight to carry me, but then I got distracted.”

The king sighed. “Well, come here then; reveal your injury.”

Hornet nodded and stepped toward him, showing off her lower right leg. Nothing more than a misstep, seeing as she was able to walk without it being so impaired. This would easily heal on its own. The king told her as such, tentatively offering for the vessel to carry her on the return to gather her possessions.

"However, Hornet—" He stopped the two before the vessel could begin to lean down for her—"Cease touching the Hollow Knight unless it is explicitly for _this_. I would not wish it to harm you."

"The _knight_ wouldn't hurt me," She spoke, so certain in her words. Its void again trembled at the more fallible corners, taking more focus than it was meant to in falling to its faux-shell shape again.

"Caution is all I ask," The king emphasized flatly, before indicating once more the vessel was to hold her near.

Hornet raised her arms for it, allowing it to easily lift her up. She carried so much warmth in her small form, even now it struggled to adjust its void's temperature to match hers. Reaching to wrap her arm around its shoulders, she pressed the side of her head against its chest. In no more than a mumble: "Thank you, Knight."

Again, a sharp ache broke apart their core.

The vessel ignored the sourceless pain and mindlessly followed the king’s call.

Nothing remained within it to thank.

**Author's Note:**

> i speedran this w minimal editing so. apologies if it is a Mess BSGMSDFJ  
> basically, i think these two deserve better!
> 
> kudos n thoughts r v appreciated :]


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